Cold Hearted
by melody.taylor85
Summary: Delaney Scott was going to change Daryl Dixon's heart. They just didn't know that yet. Daryl/OC. Will be M eventually.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: It was no secret that Daryl Dixon was an angry man. No one in the group seemed to wonder what had made him that way. Until she came along. (eventual Daryl/OC)

A/N: Two things you should know bout this story 1) eventually you'll need some tissues handy, its gonna be heart-wrenching. 2) I changed Merle a little. He is now more of a protective big brother towards Daryl.

Disclaimer: Still don't own anything.

Ch. 1: September 1st

Daryl Dixon was in a pissed off mood. Actually he was raging mad. Not like that was really anything new. However, today he had this dangerous, animalistic, blood-thirsty look in his eyes.

Even Merle had stayed out of his way today. Seeming to know that he just wanted to be left alone.

The say had started off fine. Everyone was off doing their normal things. Lori and Carol were teaching the kids Math and Science. Andrea and Amy were fishing. Everyone else was either on patrol or scavenging for food and firewood.

Then Dale, who was on top of his RV, had made the most innocent of comments about the date.

He hadn't even been aware that anyone had heard him. But somehow Daryl did. His short temper seem to ignite and he went off on Dale.

When Carl had leaned over to ask his mom why Daryl wsd so angry, Merle had snapped at him that it was ' none of his fucking business'. Which, of course, had set Lori off.

"I would appreciate it if you would refrain from speaking to the children in that manner, Merle." Her eyes were shooting daggers at him.

Merle had simply laughed at her. Unaffected by her mama bear routine.

Now, hours after Daryl's meltdown, the entire camp was walking on eggshells. It was next to avoid the crossbow toting redneck on a good day, when his temper was hot, it was a matter of life or death.

Feeling fed up wroth the whole situation, Rick cautiously approached Merle outside of the Dixon tent.

"Can I talk to you alone for a minute?"

Normally, Merle would've just told him to fuck off, but curiosity got the better of him. He stood up, put down his rather large Bowie knife, and walked into the woods.

"Look,.i don't know what's gotten into Daryl today. Franky I don't really care, but I can't let him go around threatening everyone. Especially the children."

Merle narrowed his eyes and smirked. "Is that right, officer? Whatcha gonna do bout it?"

Rick knew this discussion had taken a wrong turn, so he decided to play to Merle's big brother role.

"All I'm asking is that you convince him to go into the woods flour a few days til he cools off. Hell, let him take his angry out on some deer or even the random walker."

"So, you want me to send my little brother into the woods, like time out, just because your kid is scared. Shit man, my brother wouldn't lay a hand on a kid. You know it and I know it. I think you're just a pussy. Too scared to admit that you're scared of him."

Merle laughed in his face and walked away.

Rick tried one more time.

"You know you're the only person he'll listen to. If I tried to talk to him, i'd probably get a bolt between my eyes."

After about a minute, Merle tilted his head as if to say okay, then he continued on towards his tent.

Rick heard the two brothers talking in hushed tones as he passed their side of camp. After a few minutes, Daryl grabbed his bow, slung it over his shoulder, flipped a bird in the direction of the others, and walked into the woods.

Merle immediately grabbed up his hunting supplies and followed after him.

Once the camp was sure they were really gone, a collective breath was released.

As he was passing Carol, Rick noticed her smile. He leaned towards her and asked what was so funny.

"Just reminds me of that gospel hymn Peace in the Valley. You know "there will be peace in the valley for me someday"."

Once she finished singing, the group busted out laughing.

Shane looked at her and smiled.

"We can only hope, Carol."

A/N: So I've been thinking of this for a while now. I want to make this a long story. So I'm gonna take my time on revealing why Daryl is so angry. Please stick with me. I promise it will be worth it. Also, we are all fans of the show and we know how it goes. Quarry, CDC, highway, Hershel's farm. Well, i'm not following that particular storyline. I'm not even really sure if they are at the quarry. Once I know, I'll write it into the story.

Also, for those who read and especially those who favorited and reviewed my other story, thank you so much. You guys freaking rock.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: First off, thank you to everyone who reviewed, favorited, and alerted this story. You guys and gals are awesome. I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations.

Delaney Scott was tired. Bone weary, can't keep her eyes open, exhausted. She had driven all night and now she just wanted to find someplace to sleep. Somewhere off the beaten path, secluded and quiet.

Preferably walker free if such a place existed.

She wasn't holding her breath though.

The trip from Marietta had been excruciatingly slow. Before, the drive would have taken thirty minutes but now it had taken almost three days. It was the cars. They clogged the roadways, reaching from horizon to horizon. It took her hours to bypass all the roadblocks and obstacles, sometimes she even had to get out and push a car or two out of the way, but once she had cleared that hurtle, she had come upon another: a graveyard.

Bodies had been strewn everywhere.

In the streets, hanging from cars, everywhere. Before she had left the radio station she worked at, the last emergency broadcast transmission to go out over the airwaves had urged everyone to head to Atlanta. There was a refugee center there, the transmission had said. Had _promised. _Food and safety, free of infection.

Now it appeared Atlanta was only another dead-end. No pun intended.

Laney had wanted to cry. This, Atlanta, had been one of her last hopes and how she found it crushed and destroyed, full of rotting corpses. But crying wasn't going to help. It never did. So she buckled down and forged on, even if on the inside she was slowly falling apart. 

As she drove past demolished buildings, the only thought that kept repeating in her head was that it all looked like a horror film. A really gruesome horror set. Something straight out of Hollywood. She didn't want to admit it, but the sight unnerved her, shook her to her very core. In an effort to calm herself,

Laney reached over to turn on the radio. Music had always soothed her soul. That's why she had become a radio DJ in the first place. It was her drug. And now her body needed a fix. 

It was only after she heard the static, the byproduct of dead air, that she realized what she had done. Laney had held her head up after seeing her friends and family ripped apart, had soldiered on even after the carnage of Marietta, after discovering the complete destruction of Atlanta. But that white noise was the last straw. Because now, the fact registered that…she was really alone. Laney had finally broke down and cried.

After her breakdown, she kept driving. She didn't know where, she didn't even know how much gas she had left, but she kept driving. Luckily for her, and it was time something went right for her, after she left Atlanta behind, and only a few miles up the road, she saw a little dirt road just up the road. Surrounded by woods and deserted, it looked perfect, just what she had been looking for. Laney drove until she was completely out of sight from the road and turned off the ignition. Taking a deep but unsteady breath, she laid her head down on the steering wheel. For a few minutes she just sat there in silence, just breathing. She thought she had no more tears to cry but, listening to the static still pouring out of her radio she broke down again and let out all the pain in her battered soul. She cried, screamed, and pounded her fists against the dash. She begged God why and then cursed Him when he did not respond. And, when her energy was spent, she fell into a deep sleep, too exhausted to even think of getting into the back seat to hide.

For the first time since the world had gone to hell, Delaney slept in peace. She didn't dream, didn't stir. She just slept.

When she woke up, the world around her was pitch black and silent. Eerily silent. Having gone on thousands of camping trips as a child, she knew the woods were never this quiet. All the drowsiness left her; it was like being doused in cold water, all her senses went into high alert.

Scrambling, she reached into the backseat, grabbing a weapon at random. It was a Louisville Slugger signed by Chipper Jones. It was from her father's prized Atlanta Braves collection. Throat tight, she ran her hands over the autograph, and whispered an apology to both her father and Chipper.

She wished she had a power hitter like Chipper with her. He'd knock some walkers' heads off like it was Spring Training. A broken laugh trickled out of her the absurd thought. 

Turning in her seat, but keeping half an eye on the forest, she turned in her seat, reaching around to the back. She needed food, something to calm her nerves. She grabbed a box of crackers, some peanut butter, and two bottles of water. Just as she started to turn back around, headlights suddenly glared through the rear window.

She jumped in surprise and her heart stopped for a moment before jump starting into over drive. Instinctively, she checked the doors making sure they were locked. Then she tightened her grip on her bat.

If this was it, she would go out swinging if she had to and by God she was taking someone down with her.

The car that had driven up behind her came to a stop and slowly, two figures stepped out of the vehicle. Judging from their outlines, they were both men. Well-built men. 

Laney cursed and started a mantra under her breath. _Just breathe, relax, just breathe, relax_.

After what felt like an eternity, the two men finally reached the drivers side. Laney was sure her heart was going to stop.

She couldn't see their faces but suddenly, one of the men shined his flashlight into the car; the other held his gun ready to fire if necessary.

Judging the situation to be safe, the man with the weapon holstered his gun and took a small step back. Mr. Flashlight used the handle to knock on the window.

The sound made Laney just about jump out of her skin. Trying to breath, one hand still clenched tight around the handle of her bat, she cracked the window, not trusting these guys.

"W…what do you want,"

she demanded, voice tight. The manners instilled in her by her mama went out the proverbial window. They had no use in the apocalypse. 

The man with the light tilted his head to the side and replied, "Just checking to see if you were alive our if you were a walker." Even though it was dark, Laney could see that he was a nice enough looking fella, dark hair, blue eyes, kind smile. She wasn't about to fall for it though.

"Well as you can see, I'm not a walker so you can be getting on your way now."

While she was happy to know others still existed, she wasn't gonna jump out of her car and throw her arms around them. Just cause the world had gone to shit didn't mean rapists didn't still exists. Life really freaking sucked.

"Look, we ain't looking to hurt you ma'am. We're cops. Well…least we used to be. No need to give us any lip alright?"

Laney decided she did not like the man with the gun. He had an obvious attitude problem. She was getting ready to rip him a new one but before she could open her mouth, his companion beat her to the punch.

"Damn it, Shane. You're not helping. She's only being cautious and bless her for it. How many times did we preach safety to all the women in King County? You never get out of your car after dark unless it's a well-lit area remember? Safety 101." 

Shane looked down at the ground, his jaw working. He was furious that his companion had reprimanded him in front of this bitch.

"C'mon Rick. All I was trying to do was invite her back to camp with us. Ain't safe to travel alone these days. Safety 101 right? "

At the mention of their camp, Laney's head shot up. Camp? There was a camp? Gripping her bat as tight as she could, Laney made a decision and cautiously opened the door, stepping out onto the ground. She kept both men in her sights at all times. When she was safely on the ground, she looked at Rick and inquired about their camp. "It's bout two miles down this road," he said, motioning to the dirt path they were on. "We have a few people, not much, and some supplies. You're welcome to join us ma'am." Laney pursed her lips and she must have seemed hesitant because Rick smiled at her kindly.

"If you don't feel comfortable, you can leave tomorrow. But judging by the looks of it, I think you could use a decent night of sleep." 

After a brief moment of consideration, she nodded. "Alright. Well…um lead the way." Rick smiled and told her there were no turn offs and the road was too narrow for them to pass her. He said just continue going straight and she'd run right into it. So, Laney got back into her car and led the way back into their camp. 


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Apparently the when i posted this chapter earlier, there was an issue with how it was appearing. Don't know if what i did fixed it or not. Hopefully it did. Otherwise, I'm all out of ideas on how to fix it. However, if you have any ideas on how to fix it please let me know. I don't want to have to keep taking it down, but I don't want this chapter to be posted looking funky.

Daryl Dixon's feet were killing him. In fact, just about everything on him was aching: the soles of his feet, the muscles of his arms. Hell, the fucking hairs on his head hurt. It was no one's fault but his own,however. After he had stormed out of camp, he had kept up a strong, steady pace, not stopping or slowing for anything. The need to be as far away from those assholes back at camp had consumed him, forced him farther and faster and fiercer. Now he was paying the price for that. 

Using the disappearing light as an excuse, Daryl decided to stop for the night. He cleared a small area, gathered some twigs and dry grass, and started a small fire.  
>He was grateful that Merle had had the foresight to actually do some hunting while he had trailed after him. The least Daryl could do was have the fire ready once his older brother caught up to him. <p>

As he sat stoking the fire, and once his temper had stated to wane, Daryl realized just

how foolish he had been. He had gone off on everyone for no reason. Well, actually he

had a reason, but he didn't want to think about what that was right now. In fact, he didn't

want to think about anything. No, now it was time to cool off and find his Zen. He

didn't want to be angry anymore; didn't want to fight. Daryl had decided when he was little that he'd make sure not to grow up to be the kind of man his father was: a bitter,

angry drunk who used his fists instead of words. 

But isn't that what he had done, in a way? Daryl's stomach lurched at the thought that

he had scared those kids back at camp. He didn't give a fuck what those self-righteous

pricks thought of him but he didn't want to terrorize innocent children. Didn't want them

to feel the fear he had felt as a child. He had promised himself he would never do

that to any child. He promised.

Daryl was so lost in thought that he barely heard the twigs behind him snap. Not sure if it was his brother or some geek, he jumped to his feet, crossbow in hand. Lucky for him, it was Merle. Daryl felt the muscles in his shoulders and at the back of his neck unwind

at the sight of his brother, felt something in his chest that had been clenched tight,

unravel. Now he'd be able to eat and rest easier knowing that his brother was safe.

He'd never tell Merle just how much he worried when they were separated from one another. Sure, they both knew how to defend themselves, but still, there was the chance of being outnumbered and overpowered. Even Merle Dixon was no match for a horde of flesh-eating walkers.

"So baby brother, ya finally decided to quit your little tantrum?"

"Screw you Merle."

If anyone else had heard those words, they would've figured a fight was about to break

out between the brothers. But the two Dixon brothers both knew it was their way, a

way they had learned and practiced to perfection as young children, of saying, " Are

you okay?" and, "I'm fine." Since neither brother had ever been accused of displaying

affection, they relied on insults to show their love for one another. Sure it was a little

dysfunctional but what about the Dixon's wasn't? 

The two brothers sat around the campfire for a while, still and silent. Finally fed

up with the silence, Merle decided to speak up. "You gonna be okay kid?" he asked,

one eyebrow raised as he gazed at his little brother across the flames of their meager

campfire. Daryl sighed and tossed a stick into the fire. "I'm fine. It's just...you know

what today was don't you?" His voice laced with pain, sorrow, and exhaustion. Today

had really taken its toll on him, all those memories, memories he would kill to

forget. Merle snorted. "Yep. I figured ya'd lose that temper of your's at some point

today. Hell, I was shocked ya lasted so long. It's why I had my gear ready to go. Figured

you'd either go hunting or you'd finally decide to leave those dipshits once and for all."

Daryl winced as he remembered his breakdown. He hadn't meant to behave like

that; he just couldn't help it. Today…today always fucked with him, always got

under his skin and keyed him up till he was ready to draw blood. His own. Someone

else's. It didn't matter. He just needed that release. Still…he couldn't help but

remember Grimes' little boy and those big blue eyes of his, locked on Daryl blowing

up at Dale with fear in their depths. "Think I should apologize to that boy?" Daryl

asked his brother. "It's killing me that I snapped at him that way."

"Naw, boy gets coddled to much already. Make a man out of him. Lord knows, his

daddy wouldn't know how to,"

Merle scoffed, taking a drag off of one of the precious

last cigarettes he had left. Daryl just grunted at Merle's reply, staring off into the

distance with that troubled look in his eye that the older Dixon knew too well.

Sick of seeing his brother so damn depressed, Merle tossed him one of the rabbits he'd

killed earlier. It'd keep him busy and keep the Oprah moment from going any further. 

He'd let Daryl mope around for a couple more days and then he'd kick his ass back in

gear, make him head back to camp. It wasn't safe to be out here too long. Walkers

were starting to wander out of the city. That was the only reason he'd decided to stick

it out with that group: the added firepower. Lord fucking knows it wasn't for their

shinning personalities. Besides, Merle was getting too old to sleep on the hard ground.

By morning, he just knew that his back was going to be as stiff as his cock after a night at the titty bar he loved.

Not that he'd ever admit it out loud of course.

Christ. The things he did for his baby brother.


	4. Chapter 4

I wanted to take a moment and thank everyone who has reviewed, favorited, and alerted this story. You guys make this so much fun and rewarding. I also want to extend a very big thank you to my beta girl, Jade. You freaking rock chica. Now, on with the show..er story.

Delaney Scott woke up feeling refreshed and more alert than she had since the world

had gone to shit. The haze of running on only fumes had finally lifted; the headache

at the back of her eyes was actually gone. Laney couldn't be more grateful but she

was also mildly surprised that she had actually fallen asleep last night. Sure, she had told

Rick she would rest up and then decide if she wanted to stay, but the truth is, she hadn't

planned on sleeping. Not with so many strangers around her.

And speaking of so many strangers, nothing could have prepared Laney for such a

large group of survivors. Honestly, she had figured that Rick and Shane had more than

likely exaggerated their numbers just to convince her to go back to their camp. But

now, looking at the camp in the daylight, she was impressed with not only the sheer

numbers of this little group, she had counted over ten, but also with the set-up. Laney

wondered if these people had taken surviving the apocalypse classes or something. This

shit was way too organized.

As Laney had stepped out of the tent Rick and Shane had let her borrow, all eyes

had turned toward her, the newcomer. Since most of the group had been in bed by the

time she and the two former cops had returned last night, everyone was more than

a little curious as to who she was. At first glance, she looked harmless enough, she

was a little on the tall side, about 5'10, with a head full of blonde hair and burgundy

streaks that flashed out every time she shifted her head. She looked normal, and

before the end of the world, no one would have spared her a second glance. But that

was before and this is now and no one took appearances for granted anymore. Not

when their very lives were at stake.

Looking around, Laney could feel the apprehension welling inside of her and she tried

not to fidget. She wasn't shy it's just…she was as leery of them as they were of her.

"Come on," she thought to herself. "Don't be such a puss." Taking a deep breath,

Laney decided to just get this over with and walked up to the cluster of women who

were standing next to a picnic table. Time for introductions.

Plastering on the most pleasant smile, Laney introduced herself. "Hello, my name's

Delaney Scott." Friendly and informative. Perfect. She gave herself a mental pat on the

back.

For a moment no one moved, just staring at Laney in shock, but then a tall, thin,

brunette stepped forward and held out her hand. "Good morning Delaney," she said

with a kind smile. "My name is Lori Grimes. You met my husband Rick last night."

Delaney was more than a little surprised to hear that Rick was this woman's

husband. She couldn't believe that there were still couples alive. It's been her

experience that usually, half of the couple is missing. "Oh uh yes. Your husband is

very kind. I'm very grateful that he brought me here," she told Lori. That didn't

mean she was staying but she did appreciate Rick's goodwill gesture nonetheless.

After meeting the other women, she realized that there wasn't very many in camp,

Laney decided to go around and meet everyone else. Then she'd find something to eat for

breakfast. Then it was time to bathe. After a week of traveling, she was certain that she

reeked of body odor.

Well…actually…maybe it would be best to bathe first. Food could wait a little longer.

Walking to her car, Laney popped the trunk and rummaged around in her bags. The bag

wasn't very organized, she had been in a bit of a rush when she had packed before

booking it out of Marietta, but Laney did find a change of clothes, her shampoo, body

wash, deodorant, a toothbrush and half a tube of toothpaste. She tried not to cry in

relief as she hugged her toiletries. She was going to bathe. God, Laney never though

the day would come where she would almost thank the heavens for just being able to

clean herself. But, then again, she also never thought the day would come when the

dead fucking came back to life.

What are you gonna do?

When Laney had her things, she walked towards the creek located on the other side of

their vehicles, doubling checking to make sure she was alone. This was the problem

with traveling with a group. You had to sneak away to take care of personal matters. Kiss

privacy goodbye. Once she was sure she was alone, double and triple check, Laney

quickly striped down and walked into the water. It was lukewarm thanks to the Georgia

summer sun beating down on it and damn. It felt like heaven.

Twenty minutes later, scrubbed clean of dirt and feeling like a brand new person,

Laney strolled back into camp. Immediately, however, could tell something was wrong,

everyone was tense and huddled near the ancient looking RV, but, being the newbie

she figured it wasn't her right to be nosey. Keeping her head down, Delaney made to

skirt around the frantically whispering group when, out of nowhere, Shane stormed

towards her, eyes blazing and fists clenched around his 12 gauge shotgun. "Where the

hell were you," he suddenly demanded.

Laney slowed down to a stop, shocked. How dare he take that tone with her! Who the

hell did he think he was? She didn't even know this guy! "I was taking a fucking

stroll through Central Park," she snapped back at him, aggravated. "Where the fuck do

you think I went?"

Shane scowled at her but then he took in her appearance and saw what she had

in her hands. Understanding sparked in his eyes and he took a step back, the

aggressiveness fading from his posture. "No one wanders off without letting someone

else know," he grumbled at her. "If something happens, we have to be able to find you

quick."

Reigning in her Irish-Scot temper, Laney rolled her eyes at him and brushed past

everyone and, stalking towards her car. Halfway there, however, she turned back to

Shane, unable to let him have the last word. "Just so you remember, I'm not a part

of your group all right? I don't know you and you don't know me so don't spout off

your rules to me. I go wherever the fuck I want to go and I don't need your permission."

Spinning on heel, she proceeded to her car.

Laney could feel a headache coming on. It usually happened whenever she lost her

temper. Plus, she kind of felt bad that everyone had worried about her. Oh well. She'd

apologize to everyone later. Except maybe Shane. He could go to hell because Laney

did not care for his attitude towards her at all. Right now, however, she needed to eat

something and cool down. The late morning sun had heated up the campsite and Laney

could already feel the sweat beading on her brow and against her back. If she didn't

eat soon, she'd probably pass out from the lack of food. And wouldn't Shane just love

that. Just give him another reason to climb up her ass. Laney huffed out an angry

breath as he pulled some food from her back seat. She'd had never been one to make

snap judgments about anyone, but she really didn't like that guy.

When she was done and after storing the trash from her breakfast in the trunk of her

car, Laney wandered over to Dale. Out of all the camp members, at least the men, she

thought he was the most sensible and easy going. Laney liked him and so she decided

to apologize and let him know she was going to walk around the woods a little. Being

cooped up in the car all week, she hadn't gotten to much exercise. She wanted to stretch

her legs and find some privacy. She'd been alone for so long, it felt weird to be around

so many people. Hell, it was less than 10 hours after she had arrived at this camp and

Laney she was ready to be alone again.

In regards to long-term goals, she hadn't really thought about if she wanted to stay with

this group or go back out on her own. On the one hand, it felt nice to not have to worry

about anything for the moment. Well, the worry about Walkers was always present but

the worry over where she would stay the night, if it was safe to stop for a nap, and what

would happen when she finally ran out of gas was not necessary here. On the other

hand, this Shane guy was a really grade A prick and Laney didn't know if she could

trust the rest of them. This was a real dilemma but what do you expect when the

world ends?

After apologize to Dale, which he graciously accepted, Laney dutifully told him where

she was going and, with his warnings still fresh in her ears, she started out. Laney

had always loved going out for hikes on her days off from the radio station. While she

was not an overly outdoors person, neither was she one to stay cooped up inside all day

either. She liked the perfect balance. She stayed in during winter and when the heat was

too oppressive but the rest of the time, she was out in nature. Except, she tended to stay

away from most waterways. She was terrified of water but, interestingly enough,

she loved waterfalls. She didn't know what it was about them but they were just so

peaceful to her.

As Laney wandered farther into the woods, she felt the sun warm on her back, more

than likely baking the skin of her neck. It probably wasn't wise wander so far from

camp, but after Shane's little tirade this morning, Laney was itching to just irritate him as

much as possible. Was it childish? Without a doubt. Did she care? Not one damn bit.

Laney was still lost in thought and contemplation over King Prick Shane when,

without warning, a buck came charging towards her, it's eyes wide with fear. Laney

froze for just an instant, ironically like a deer caught in the headlights, but then

she dove into the brush at the last second to avoid being trampled to death. The deer

charged right through the space the Laney had been standing in not a second ago,

vaulting over the fallen log that she had been playfully balancing on. Laney, for the

most part, was unscathed. But she could barely breath past the thundering heart

that was lodged in her throat or the way the blood seemed electrified in her veins.

What the hell had spooked that deer to go sprinting, ass over tits, through the woods

like that? Well, Laney could think of a few things and none of them boded well for

her. Holy crap. As Laney laid on her belly, hidden by some bushes, she hoped if it

was a walker it would just walk past her without seeing or smelling her. Laney was angry

at herself for leaving camp without a weapon. What was the point in having her father's

gun stash if she wasn't going to carry at least one with her at all times!

Hunkering down farther, Laney was just contemplating getting the hell outta Dodge

and booking it back to camp when she picked up the sound of whispering coming from

over the hill. It sounded like at least two people. Oh crap. They were live people. Live

people were more dangerous than walkers if they had weapons and an intent to

harm. Shit. She might not have fully decided if she wanted to stay with Rick's group

or not but she couldn't just let them be unknowingly ambushed. She had to warn

them. Making up her mind, Laney propelled herself off the ground and out from

under the brush.

That's when she saw them, not ten yards from her. She didn't have time to dive back

under and besides, they were looking right at her. She was screwed.

"Hey you," the taller man demanded, shotgun slung loosely across his

shoulders. "What you doing out here in these woods?"

The man was big and burly, with what looked like a shaved head and sun reddened

skin. "Great," Laney mused to herself. "Of all the people I could run into out in the

woods, I run into Mountain Dan and his sidekick."

"Hey girly, I'm talking to you! You gonna answer me or not?"

Swallowing her fear and apprehension, Laney decided to answer, wondering in the

back of her mind if she could outrun these guys if push came to shove. "Well, right

now, I'm staring at you and your buddy there," she replied, being purposely vague.

The shorter of the two men, who Laney noticed was also the younger, snorted under

his breath but his companion narrowed his eyes, unamused. "No shit genius. That

ain't what I meant and you know it. Now, why don't you give me a real answer this time

smartass."

Narrowing her eyes at the abrasive man, Laney crossed her arms over her chest.

"I was just out exploring. Ya know, taking in the scenery. Didn't realize it was run

into dickheads day already. Used to have my calendar marked for those kind of special

occasions but with it being the end of the world and all, it seems I'm without my trusty

calendar."

The older man blinked at her for a second and then threw back his head, hooting with

laughter. He loved a girl with spunk. This one seemed to have spunk in aces. He looked

over at his friend and elbowed him, ducking his head so the two of them could have what

looked to be a conversation.

Realizing it was the opening she was needing to escape, Laney didn't hesitate before

she turned around and took off back towards camp. Or at least what she thought was

the direction she had come from. She hoped, anyway. However, she didn't get very far

before she heard voices behind her. Judging by the sound they were closing in on her fast.

Christ. Well there went the out running them plan. Slowly down just the slightest,

Laney waited until the two men were almost on her, all they had to do was round that

tree, before she whirled around, fist flying out. The taller man, who was also slower and

just a step behind his companion, managed to stop in time. The shorter guy wasn't so

lucky. Before he could even blink, Laney's fist was smashing into his face and the

crunch of cartilage, followed by the splatter of blood, was what he got for his efforts.

"What the fuck was that for you crazy bitch!"

Apparently the younger man did not find his broken nose to be as much of an

accomplishment as Laney did. In fact, judging by the fire in his teary eyes, he was

downright pissed about it.

Laney withdrew her hand, shaking it out as her knuckles throbbed. "You were

fucking chasing after me like I was a fucking 18 point buck. That's what that was

for. You're lucky I didn't have my bat with me." Her words were caustic and full of

false bravado. Underneath her biting exterior, Laney was secretly a little scared.

Outrunning these guys hadn't worked and a broken nose didn't even seem to slow

them down. If they were out to hurt her…fuck. Did Delany mention she really

wished she had her dad's bat, or better yet, his fucking pistol!

The man with the broken nose wiped a hand aggressively across his mouth,

smearing the blood into his skin and goatee. "Look bitch..."

He barely had time to dodge the fist flying towards his face for the second time.

"I'm 'bout such and tired of all you dick waving, brainless, fuckwads around here calling

me a bitch," Laney seethed. Even if this meant a bullet, she wasn't about to let this

stranger skate by. She was never one to let people walk all over her. The end of the

world wasn't going to change that. "You want a bitch. I'll fucking show you a bitch."

Suddenly, the taller man stepped in between the two. He pushed his friend back,

ignoring the muttered curses his friend threw his way, and turned towards

Laney. "Look kitten, put your claws back in and stop trying to hit my little brother."

Laney pursed her lips but didn't say anything. The man took that as a sign that she

was listening and then turned to his, apparently, younger brother. "Daryl, go set

your nose and get that twist outta your panties."

Daryl scowled at him but wandered off a few feet, mumbling incoherently under his

breath thanks to his broken nose. Taking a deep breath, he ripped a piece of his flannel

shirt off, held it to his nose, and quickly reset the cartilage. He'd broken up enough bar

fights between his brother and drunken idiots to have experience with resetting broken

noses.

When his nose had stopped bleeding, he walked back to join his brother and Xena

Warrior Princess. He heard Merle apologizing for scaring her and wasn't completely

surprised by this. Most people thought the Dixons were bad mannered which was untrue.

They had been raised by a God-fearing Southern mother who had no qualms with

knocking their teeth down your throat and making them spit 'em out in single file.

They had manners all right. They just chose not to use them most of the time.

Seeing Daryl walk back towards them, covered in his blood, Delaney felt kind of bad

for breaking his nose. She probably should've kept running instead of going into attack

mode but after dealing with Shane's bullshit earlier, she had been revving for a fight. She

was still leery of him, and his older brother Merle, but they didn't seem as bad as

she had first assumed. Now she'd have to apologize again. Great, this was turning out to

be one fucking lovely day.

Laney swallowed her pride and turned to the younger man. "Look, Daryl. I'm sorry

for punching you. I shouldn't have done that. But you have to understand having two

guys chasing after you in the woods, strangers nonetheless, is not the best circumstances

for a woman to be in. For all I know, you could've been trying to chase me down so you

could rape me. So, I hope you will forgive me," she said sincerely.

Daryl rolled his eyes and turned his head away. "Yeah, whatever."

"Anyways, I've got a camp setup back up that way, you're welcome to come with me. I'm

sure the others won't mind." Actually, she was pretty sure they would mind. Especially

Shane. But, even if Merle and Daryl didn't seem so bad now, she wasn't about to

completely trust them. If they decided to go homicidal rapist or some other shit,

Laney would rather be back at camp near Shane's trusty shotgun and his half

cocked, ready to go, lets' fucking do this shit, attitude.

Merle and Daryl turned and stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. They

both were thinking the same thing. Only camp setup around here was the one they were

with. How did this chick know bout that? Clearing his throat, Merle spoke up. "Well,

when you put it that way, how can we say no? We need to grab our gear and then we'll be

ready. Lead the way sweetheart."

They all walked back to grab the gear together. Sensing that she was turned around,

Daryl led the way. If she noticed he knew exactly where to go without directions, she

never said anything.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I want to take a moment to thank everyone who has put this story under their alerts. It really makes me smile when i get that email. However, i've noticed that i haven't received any reviews since ch 2. So that makes me sad. I have a proposition for you. I have the most wonderful surprise for anyone who reviews this chapter. I will personally send you the story about my Norman Reedus interaction from Saturday.

Dale was worried. And not just the, oh I think it might rain and I don't have an

umbrella kind of worry. This was the kind of worry that ate at you, that burned in

your stomach, set a jittery spark through your veins, and made a metallic, copper

taste awaken in the back of your throat.

Laney had been gone far too long.

He knew it had been a bad idea to let her wonder off on her own. There was a reason

why everyone made a big deal about people going off by themselves. Anything could

happen. Everything could happen. It just wasn't safe. And yet…he had seen that she

was basically crawling out of her skin. The shifty glances, the winces when someone

shouted something or too many people crowded around her. Dale had to admit, it

was hard to get used to so many people. Especially after being alone for so long.

And especially when one of those people was Shane Walsh.

Dale frowned at the thought of the former cop. Shane was one of those people whose

name left a bad taste in your mouth. He was abbrassive, aggressive, and, on a good

day, a complete asshole. You didn't want to catch him on one of his bad days and,

unfortunately, today had been one of Shane's bad days. Dale noticed that they were

becoming more and more common as time wore on.

Looking to the darkening sky, Dale decided he was going to have to tell someone that

Laney was gone. Five hours was way too long for just a cooling off period. Something

might be wrong. The notion set the acid in Dale's stomach roiling all the more.

Determined, he wandered towards the Grimes' tent. At the back of his mind, Dale was

hoping he could get Rick to go look for Delaney without causing another melt down with

Shane.

Hopefully, anyway.

When the younger man came into view, standing outside of his tent, Dale quickly

approached him. "Uh Rick," he said quietly. He was fidgeting, tense and nervous,

playing with the brim of his worn hat. Rick blinked at his appearance but took it in

stride, smiling gently and stepping forward. "Hey Dale. Is there a problem," he asked,

taking in the older man's uncomfortable posture. Worry bloomed in the center of

Rick's chest and the familiar acidic beginnings of panic took root. Something was

wrong.

Dale took a deep breath. "Well...Laney's missing," he said. Rick gave him a slightly

skeptical look because, let's face it, they had been here before. "No, no. I am serious

this time. She went for a walk a long while back and hasn't returned yet."

Rick frowned at the slight hysteria is Dale's voice. The man was really worried.

Rubbing at the back of his neck, Rick asked how long a while was. "Going on five

hours." Rick balked, eyes bulging out of his head, and Dale rushed to amend. "I…I

would've told you sooner but I was on watch and then I got busy fixing the radiator hose.

I just realized she wasn't back yet."

Rubbing the side of his face in exasperation and concern, Rick sighed and then

reached out to clap Dale on the shoulder. "Alright, let me round up a few people and

we'll start combing the woods for her. Ok? But I'll need you to stay on watch an-"

Dale was already nodding before Rick could even finish. "That's fine. I'll take watch

again. I just want to make sure Laney is alright."

True to his word, ten minutes later Dale was on top of his RV again, rifle in hand,

watching as T-Dog, Glenn, Morales, and Jim crowded around Rick. Each had assorted

weapons in hand. Shane was nowhere to be seen. "Ok so Dale said he last saw Laney

heading in that direction," Rick told the rest of the men, pointing in a direction due

North. "But that was hours ago. She could be anywhere. So what we are going to do

is break off into groups. I'll head North. Jim, Morales, you will go East." The two

men gave nods of understanding, Morales swinging up a Louisville Slugger across

his shoulders. "Glenn and T-Dog, you'll head West. Go out as far as you can but

meet back here, in camp, in an hour. Understood?"

All the men acknowledged Rick's words and so they set off in their separate

directions. No one said anything but, as they all walked off into the woods, each

man, in a way, wished Daryl was with them. He was the best tracker in the group. Of

course besides Merle, he was the only tracker. Without the two of them, all the men

really had was the hope that they ran into Delaney before the sun set.

Twenty minutes later, Rick was picking his way through the woods when he heard

footsteps in the distance. He went rigid in surprise for a moment before he silently

pulled out his gun, his old Python glinting in the fading sunlight. Honestly, he didn't

want to risk shooting a walker, it was too nosy, too attention grabbing, but he would if

it was necessary. Besides, walkers won't the only thing to roam these woods. Raising

the gun, Rick waited behind a bush with bated breath. Hammer cocked, he let his

finger rest over the trigger. He saw a head come into view followed seconds later by a

quiet groan.

Heart thundering in his ears, Rick squeezed the trigger two seconds before he made

out Daryl's profile. Horror flooded his being as the sight processed and he opened

his mouth to shout a warning, an apology, a plea, but before he could even draw a

breath, Daryl jerked and hit the ground.

The next few moments seemed to happen all at once. The second Daryl hit the

ground, screams filled the air, Merle aimed his rifle at Rick and Laney fell over Daryl's

prone body.

…wait! Where did Laney come from and why was she with the Dixon brothers?

Rick didn't even get to address that issue because before he knew it, the barrel of

Merle's rifle was pressed right under his chin, digging into the skin with a kiss of

cold steel. "You best get to praying my baby brother ain't dead pig! Or you'll be joining

him real soon," Merle spat. His whole body was vibrating with anger and hatred. Rick

took his advice and started praying to any and every god in existence.

Meanwhile, Laney was frantically searching for a pulse. There was blood everywhere,

or so it seemed, and her fingers were shaking so bad she was having trouble finding one.

Finally she gave up and placed her ear against his chest.

For a second, all she heard was silence and her veins ran cold but suddenly,

miraculously, she felt the steady best of his heart. The noise, slow and sturdy, made

her close her eyes, tears sloshing behind closed lids.

Suddenly an arm snaked around her back, wrapping loosely around her spine.

Confused, she looked up and was met with the bluest eyes she had ever seen. She had

always thought Paul Newman had the most beautiful blue eyes. Now she knew she had

been wrong. Laney just stared for what seemed like eternity, lost in those blue, blue,

eyes until Merle's voice jerked her out of her trance, asking if his brother was alive.

Her cheeks were burning from embarrassment and she jerked herself into a sitting

position. "He's alive. Looks like the bullet grazed his left temple. He's either really lucky

or your aim is really shitty Officer Grimes." Rick gave a shaky laugh but one look of

death from Merle quickly shut him up. Getting back to her feet, Delaney reached down

to help Daryl up. She flinched when he just shot her a dirty look and pushed himself off

the ground. It would be a cold day in Hell before he accepted help.

Seething with a renewed anger, Daryl shook his head to clear it, spraying droplets

of blood through the air, before he stalked towards Rick. "The fuck you thinking," he

snarled, shoving at the former cop's chest. Rick was so grateful that he hadn't killed

the hunter that he didn't even try to defends himself against the man's attack.

Daryl shoved himself in Rick's face, teeth bared. "Next time you shoot me, you best

pray I'm dead. You're lucky I didn't kill you and leave your ass for walkers to naw on."

Merle made a noise that clearly stated he was thinking of doing this whether Daryl

was hurt or not. Realizing how dangerous the situation was becoming, Laney quickly

stepped between the three men. She knew she had to diffuse this ticking time bomb

before anyone else got hurt.

"What are you doing out here Rick?" she asked, hoping to change the subject. The

man seemed greatful as he shakily turned his gaze to her face. "Dale told me you

were missing. Said you left camp to cool off about five hours ago and hadn't returned.

We were worried. So, how do you know the Dixons?"

Laney opened her mouth to answer but, before she could, she caught sight of Daryl

out of the corner of her eye. He was…pouting. Literally. Bottom lip stuck out and

everything. She couldn't help it. She pointed towards Daryl and burst out laughing.

Daryl, never one to tolerate being laughed at, quickly went from pouting to snarling at

her. "What's so fucking funny, you crazy bitch?"

Grabbing the stitch in her side, Laney shook her head. "I'm…I'm sorry," she gasped

out. "I was just thinking how this wasn't turning out to be your day. First I break your

nose then Deputy Do Right here shoots you in the head. Talk about a shitty day dude."

At the mention of Daryl's shitty day, Rick suddenyly perked up, like a dog on point.

"Wait... You broke Daryl's nose. What happened? Did he try to hurt you?" Rick asked,

moving out of instinct to grab Laney by the arm and move her behind him. Turning

towards the Dixons, his face twisted in suspicion and anger. It really wasn't his fault.

The Dixons weren't exactly model citizens and Rick had been a police officer for

almost a decade. It was reflex really.

"Get your panties out of a twist, you sick fucker. Ain't nobody laid a hand in the girl. I

don't know what kind of people ya'll think we are, but we don't rape women. We don't

have to rape women, they freely give it up," Merle snarled out, jabbing the barrel at

Rick again. He was pissed, livid. Not only had this bastard shot his baby brother,

now he was insulting him! It was one thing to be called a backwoods redneck, but he'd

be damned if he was gonna be called a rapist. Merle was seriously considering killing

this motherfucker. Fuck the consequences.

While the two males were facing off, Laney was standing behind Rick, completely

offended. While she wasn't best friends with these guys, she knew they would never hurt

her or any other woman. They were a little rough around the edges but they were

decent guys. Besides, if they had tried to rape her, she would've kicked their balls so

far up their neck, they'd choke on them. She wasn't no damsel in distress damn it.

Irritated, Laney shoved passed Rick and spun around to face him, hands on her

hips. "Not that it's any of your fucking business, but I ran into these guys back in the

woods. I almost got trampled by a deer they had been hunting. One thing led to another

and I wound up punching Daryl in the face. Afterwards I felt bad, so I invited them

back to camp. Although it seems they may not need my invitation after all. Speaking of

which." She turned back towards the brothers, who looked sheepish. Merle had a smirk

on his face and Daryl was chewing on his thumbnail. "How long were you gonna let me

think I was helping ya'll out?" She asked the question to the both of them but she was

looking square at Daryl. For some reason, the look of betrayal in her face pained him.

"Well, I wouldn't say that we were trying to mislead you. It's just you were so excited

to be doing us a favor that we didn't want to ruin it for you," he told her truthfully.

Apparently, that did little to mollify her. With an exaggerated huff, Laney whirled

around and began to march off. Her sense of direction still needed work, though, since

she was heading west towards the creek instead of camp which had been directly in

front of her had she just kept to the path. Glancing to Merle, who shrugged and started

walking towards the camp, Daryl realized he would have to be the one who went after

her. Grumbling to himself, Daryl trudged along after Delaney.

Rick, who was still standing where Laney had shoved him, wasn't sure what to do. Or

what really just happened. Finally, he decided to go back. Glen and the others would be

waiting for him and dinner would be ready soon. No reason to stay out here any longer.

Shrugging, Rick put away his gun and followed Merle back to camp.

Keeping his distance of course.

Down my the creek, a place where she didn't really know how she ended up at,

Delaney felt betrayed. Which was stupid. She had only met Daryl a few hours ago. But

still, they had made a fool of her. She was trying to be nice and make up for breaking

Daryl's nose and then it turns out, they didn't need her help. Sighing, she bent down,

picked up a handful of rocks, and began to toss them, one by one, into the water.

She didn't really know to skip them but the plunking noises were calming in and of

themselves.

It was still quiet around her, but she knew he was behind her. For someone who was a

hunter, he made a lot of noise. Somehow, she felt that this was for her benefit. Or to keep

her from getting startled and hitting him again. When the silence got to be too much,

she said the only thing to him that she could think of.

"Why?"

Behind her, Daryl sighed. "I told you. You were so excited to be able to help us out,

which isn't something that happens alot, that it seemed wrong to tell you otherwise. Plus

I kinda wanted to see their reaction when you came back with the black sheep of the

group."

After he finished his explanation, or excuse, Laney turned so she could face him.

Instantly her eyes found his fathomless blue ones, something stirring at the back of

her mind and the pits of her stomach, like the fluttering of the fairest of butterfly

wings. She had never had this kind of reaction to anyone before. She was drawn to him.

When he had fallen to the ground, the retort of Rick's gun echoing in the Georgia

air, she had felt a pain in her gut. It made her nervous and angry. She knew it was risky

getting close to anyone. Thats why she didn't want to stay with a group. It was best to go

it alone. That way, she didn't have to worry about dealing with someone she cared for

becoming a walker.

Before she even knew what she was doing, she was talking. "I'm leaving tomorrow,"

she said and then the words kept coming. "I wanted to lead you to the camp, help you

get situated, then I was leaving. Kinda like paying it forward."

Daryl looked more than a little surprised. "You sure that's smart? Ain't exactly safe

out there ya know."

Laney nodded. "Yeah, but all these people, I feel crowded. I'm not used to so many

people. Least I ain't now. I was only planning to stay a few days, rest up, and then go on

my way."

"Why you telling me all this?" Daryl looked confused now, brow furrowed in

bewilderment. He barely knew this chick. Why was she confiding in him?

For her part, Laney didn't know why either. "I don't know. Just felt like I needed to

say it."

Daryl stood there for a moment but nodded his head once and then turned around

to head back to camp. He paused long enough to make sure she was following him

but otherwise didn't acknowledge her. He was too lost in thought. For one, Daryl

realized he didn't want Laney to leave. He didn't know why and to be honest it pissed

him off.

He didn't want to care.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Wow, i want to take a moment and thank everyone who reviewed my last chapter. I was blown away by the response i got. Also, I believe i sent everyone, except Whisper (couldn't send you a personal message, dear), the story. Also, thanks to everyone who has favorited or alerted this story. You guys really rock. So what i need you to do now is... once you finish this chapter, I need you to go read my friend's story. "The Bite of a Blade, The Sting of an Arrow" It is such an awesome story.

Once the camp went to bed that night, and everything was dark and calm, Daryl snuck out of his tent. Merle slept like the dead, no pun intended, and the chink was on look out so, for an experienced hunter like Daryl, who knew how to cover his tracks and make so little noise it was like he didn't exist, it wasn't very hard to pick his way to Delaney's car.

The truth was…he didn't want the fiery blonde to leave. He didn't know why. He didn't even really care about figuring out why. He just knew that he was going to do everything he could to stop her. Which is why he was planning on siphoning the gas out of her car.

Was it wrong? Hell yeah. Would there be hell to pay? Certainly. Did he give a fuck? Not in the least.

Daryl had felt a connection to her the moment he had laid eyes on her, charging out of the brush like some fleeing doe. Those deep blue eyes awakened some animalistic urge to protect her. He had tried to ignore it, especially after she had told him of her impending departure, but he just couldn't. It nagged at him, tore at him, until he had no choice but to act. In result, Daryl Dixon was determined to keep her in this group for as long as Merle and him stayed with them.

At first, he had considered just deflating her tires but then he decided gas was a better route. She'd suspect foul play with four flat tires but an empty tank could be explained away. As long as it wasn't full. Then he'd be screwed.

Luckily, Daryl discovered the tank only a quarter full. Seems he had some luck after all. When he was finished, which was a lot quicker than he had first figured, he walked to his truck, poured the gas into his tank, and went to his tent. He'd try to catch a few hours sleep. He had look out duty after Glenn.

Morning rolled around and Delaney woke up to pack her car. It didn't take long; it wasn't like she had many things left. When she was finished, she said her goodbyes, making sure to go out of her way and thank Rick again for his hospitality. "Don't mention it Delaney. Now, are you sure you won't stay," he asked as he shook her hand, smile small and tinged with concern. "You are more than welcome." Delaney thanked the former officer for his offer but declined with a shake of her head. She wanted to get away from the camp as soon as possible. And she reasons were valid. Shane was an asshole, gunning to put a bullet in her head. Or heart. Any part of her really. And Daryl…well Daryl just made her feel things she had sworn off once the world had gone to shit.

But, as she tried to leave, buckled in and rearing to go, her car refused to start. No matter how she turned her key, pumped her gas pedal, the engine only sputtered and cough, never turning over. It began to piss her off. She had bought this car only four months ago. It should be running smoothly.

Getting out, she popped the hood and checked for any noticeable problem. Never really having taken the time to learn about cars, she didn't really know what to look for.

"Fuck," she mumbled, kicking the passenger tire. Seeing her frustration, Dale finally walked over to assist her. "What's wrong Delaney," he asked her. The young woman sighed harshly and smacked her hand against the warm metal of the car's hood. "The damn thing won't start!"

"Now, now. That isn't going to solve anything. Why don't you pop the hood and I'll take a look, see if I can't spot what's wrong." Laney hesitated for just a moment. She didn't want to be indebted to these people again but, really, did she have a choice? Not finding an alternative, she popped the hood again. Dale ducked underneath and tinkered with something for a moment before he told her to start it again and see if any warning lights came on. Her eyes widened when she saw the gas gauge.

Empty. Bone fucking dry. Way past E, heading towards Z.

That made no fucking sense. Delaney was certain she had had gas in the tank. She had kept an eagle eye on that gauge. After all, it wouldn't help to break down in the middle of nowhere with no cars around to siphon gas from.

Something was up. Laney knew it. The only explanation for her barren tank was…someone had stolen her gas. In the middle of the night. A fucking cowardly thief. Delaney had heard a lot of talk about the RV being hard on gas, all the generators low. But, surely, Dale wouldn't steal her gas. He had been nothing but kind to her. And, besides, he knew she had planned to leave. They all did.

Which made this betrayal even more back stabbing and made her anger all the hotter.

Feeling duped, swindled, hit over the head and pissed off more than an alley cat caught in a thunderstorm, Laney grabbed her father's .38 from the backseat, she stormed towards Dale. She lifted the barrel and pointed it right at the old man's face, eyes blazing.

"When did you steal my fucking gas, you son of a bitch?"

Dale blinked at her in shock, backing away rapidly, hands slowly rising. "What? Delaney what are you talking about? I would never steal from you!"

The irate woman bared her teeth and cocked the hammer back on her gun. "You have five fucking seconds to give me back my gas old man." Dale quivered but just stared at her with horrified eyes.

Shane and Rick, who had rounded the RV to ask Dale a question, saw the stand off between the older man and Delaney and, without a seconds hesitation, raced over to her car. The second the former cops met the confronting pair, Shane had his gun trained on her. He looked far more than willing to kill her without a second thought. Delaney immediately trained her gun on Shane. If he killed her, she planned to at least take him with her.

Rick was just confused. What the hell was going on?

"Drop the gun, bitch." Shane's growled out, voice low and mean, full of warning and intent.

"Make me asshole."

Rick stepped between the guns, hands upraised. "Everyone just needs to call down," he reasoned. The situation was escalating out of control. He needed to find a way to diffuse the ticking bomb before somebody died. Turning to Delaney, he put his hand on her gun, pushing the barrel towards the ground. "Now, what happened?"

Laney scowls and un-cocks her weapon. "Someone siphoned my gas. Now I can't leave. I know that damned RV is a fucking gas hog, so obviously the piece of shit had to get more somewhere. I would put my life savings on the fact that Dale's RV now has more had in it than it used to."

"I haven't touched your car Delaney," Dale repeated, words soaked in sincerity. "You have to believe me. A…ask Jim! Ask him how much gas wad in the tank yesterday. Then I'll show you my gauge."

There was some merit in that plan. Casting the three men one last glare, Delaney broke away from the stand-off and staked towards the RV. Jim, a quiet and soft spoken man, was working on the radiator hose, bent over with his head thrust into the guts of the behemoth. Laney didn't hesitate to reach out and tap his shoulder. "Hey," she asked when the man had straightened, wiping his hands on a old, soiled rag. "How much gas is in this thing?"

Jim blinked at her aggressive question. "Uh, between three quarters and as half a tank. Why?"

Delaney didn't respond, just spun on heel and jerked the RV door open, and stalked to the drivers seat. Fumbling with the keys for a moment, Laney finally got the engine to catch and dropped her gaze to the gas tank.

The gauge wavered just above the half tank mark. Dale had been telling the truth.

"Shit," Delaney cursed as she slumped back in the driver's seat. She had been wrong. In the span of five minutes, she had made a complete ass out of herself and insulted Dale, the only one who had been the least bothersome towards her in the group. She was really going to have to apologize.

But, the question remained, where had her gas gone? If Dale hadn't taken it, than who? Shane? Rick? Laney didn't know but she was going to find out. And she would make the son of a bitch pay.


	7. Chapter 7

Delaney had a plan. And a damn good one at that if she did say so herself.

After spending all day interrogating the survivors in the camp, going from tent to tent, car to car, talking to every last man, woman, and child, Laney had come to the undeniable conclusion that Daryl Dixon had been the under handed thief that had delayed her departure

And he must pay for his actions.

Which brought her to her current location: inside the bastard's tent. To be honest, the tent was rather musty and had a sharp, bitter, smell to it but Laney did her best to ignore it. She had a job to do.

Delaney fidgeted in her raggedy fold-up chair from the trunk of her car. She was waiting for the Dixon brothers to return from yet another one of their hunts. She had been waiting for a while actually. Enough time to lay out a nice assortment of weapons strategically placed all around her. She wasn't planning on actually using them, but they would help put the fear of God into one Daryl Dixon. Or so she hoped.

Lori and Carol had tried to talk her out of confronting him, had begged and pleaded as she dragged her chair and weapons towards the Dixon tent. They were afraid Daryl would do something drastic like put a bolt through her head if she got up in his face. They had seen the reaction enough when Shane or Rick tried to do what Laney was planning.

But Delaney knew better, instinctively. While Daryl did have some anger issues that needed work, she could tell he would never strike a woman. She could see it in the way he looked at Ed Peletier, with such a loathing and a hatred that Laney was surprised the son of a bitch was still walking around with breath in his lungs and a beat to his heart.

Anyway, Delaney had thought long and hard about her revenge. First, she thought just to siphon the gas out of his truck, tit for tat. But that hadn't seemed like enough so they she debated just taking his truck. She knew, however, that it would drive her up the wall not getting his explanation. She had to know why.

So, in the end, she had decided that making Daryl Dixon her own personal bitch was the only way to go. An evil smile spread across her face. This just might be the best thing she had ever done in her entire life.

However, as the sun began to fall behind the trees, and the world began to dim, she began to doubt her plan. If she lit the solar powered lantern she would ruin the element of surprise and her whole plan would be ruined. On the other hand, she didn't want to sit in the dark either. Talk about being stuck between a rock and a hard place.

After five minutes of debating, Laney decided to risk the light until the boys returned to camp. Then she would turn it off. Hopefully before Daryl noticed. Speaking of which, she hoped they returned so. She hated staying up all night. There was absolutely nothing more boring than staring off into the woods with nothing but time on your hands.

A/N: Sorry this is so short. I didn't want to drag this part out. Keep repeating how Laney was in the tent waiting. Also, I want the next chapter to be the confrontation with Daryl. I'm not promising anything but I am hoping to write a little "action" into the next chapter. Nothing heavy but some making out. Until then please review and check out my dear friend's story. "The Bite of a Blade, The Sting of an Arrow" Definetly worth reading.


	8. Chapter 8

To say Daryl Dixon was shocked and surprised would be the biggest understatement in the history of the new walker-filled world. There he was, just minding his own business, innocently returning from his very fruitful hunt, only to find his tent occupied. By a woman. And not just any woman but a very attractive, he couldn't deny it any more, the way he saw her, but possibly _insane _woman.

And when he said insane, he meant like, balls to the wall, bat shit crazy. Why else would she be surrounded by an intriguing arsenal of weapons, ranging from a wooden baseball to a sawed-off shotgun, and everything pointy, sharp, or lethal in between? If that wasn't enough, the kicker was…she was fast fucking asleep, snoring her pretty little head off as she lay wrapped up in his blankets and sleeping bag.

Daryl Dixon was exhausted beyond words and had never been more confused in his life but it didn't take fucking Albert Einstein to conclude that it would be _suicide _to wake her up. Tired though he may be…he wasn't about to fall asleep that close to some crazy ass chick who he was certain was looking for revenge.

Cursing under his breath, Daryl finally decided to go out to his truck and asleep in the bed. Lord knows he had done it a thousand times before. It wasn't a big deal. In addition, this way, if he was lucky enough, he'd be able to sneak back out in the morning, back into the woods for more hunting, before she caught him.

TWD TWD TWD TWD TWD TWD TWD TWD

Delaney woke up with a crick in her neck and this nagging feeling like she had missed something important. As she began to stretch her limbs, she immediately noticed two things. One, she was not in her own tent. Which wasn't a good first thing to notice mind you. And second, she was surrounded by her weapons. She had just a millisecond to think _"What the fuck?" _before her brain caught up to her surroundings and sent her barreling out of Daryl's tent, snatching the closest weapon on the way out, which happened to be her Dad's old bat.

She couldn't believe she had fucking fallen asleep! What if she missed her chance? Anger boiled through her veins, at Daryl for starting this shit, at herself for being stupid, at the world for damn ending, and Delaney was _done. _She had planned to make that rat bastard pay for his sins privately, but now, the wrath of pissed off gods was spiraling through her and she planned on making biggest bitch fest in front of the whole camp. Served the son of a bitch right.

Laney stormed over to Merle's tent, jerked back the flap, fire on her tongue. Empty. Fuck. She turned a half circle, ready to just scream the asshole's name out and demand he come to her when she spotted a foot dangling out of the Dixon's truck bed.

Bingo.

Grinding her teeth, Delaney stalked towards the truck. Time for a rude awakening. When she drew abreast of the old piece of shit Chevy, she glanced over the side to make sure he was still sound asleep. His eyes were closed, face was slack, and breathing slow and measured. Passed out like a baby. Perfect. Not even hesitating, she dragged the bat across the metal truck bed. The grating noise jerked Daryl awake, blue eyes snapping open, but before he could take another breath, Laney placed the bat between his extremely long legs and snuggled it up to his balls.

He was royally fucked now. If he even tried to move he would experience a whole new version of blue balls.

When she had him pinned, Laney trailed her eyes down the length of the bat and slowly raked them over his body. Finally, after several long and agonizing moments, they were staring at each other. Blue eyes to blue eyes.

Daryl's orbs showed extreme discomfort and mild panic. Understandable given the fact that he was one breath away from becoming a eunuch. Delaney, on the other hand, couldn't look more amused. It was a showdown worthy of the O-K Corral.

Pressing the bat firmly into Daryl's groin, Laney leaned over him to talk. "You've got some explaining to do, Daryl Dixon," she said. "And if I was you, I'd start talking _real_ soon before my arms get all twitchy. Might have one of those muscle spasms. Hate to hit you in the nuts."

Daryl went pale at her slow and eerily calm words. Raising his hands, he slowly began to sit up. Without warning, Delaney pushed the top of the bat into his crotch, making him wince.

"Didn't say you could get up, now did I?" she snarled.

"Woman, I ain't talking to you while I'm lying on my back like a cheap Saturday night whore. You want to hit me, hit me. But I'm getting up."

Daryl was pissed off. He had never wanted to hit a woman before. But a man had the right to protect his family jewels at all cost. So, when the crazy bitch on top of him moved just the slightest bit back, he swung over the side of the truck and snatched the bat out of her hand all before she could blink.

She wanted retribution; he could understand that. But she wasn't going to do it with a damn baseball bat. With that thought, Daryl threw the bat into the woods behind him. If she wanted it back, she'd have to go through him.

While their little stand off was occurring, a small crowd began to gather around. Everyone knew what had happened the day before. They had also come to the same conclusion that Laney had. Well sort of. They knew a Dixon was involved; they just hadn't been sure which one. By the lividness on Delaney's face and the fact that Merle Dixon was nowhere to be found, the rest of camp deduced that Daryl was the one that fucked up royally.

Feeling the heated glares of the rest of them, Daryl began to fidget. This wasn't no fucking Springer show. It was time for some motherfucking privacy. This was no one's business but his and Delaney's. Fuck the rest of them. Scowling, Daryl reached out and latched his hand around Laney's wrist, spinning around to stalk off into the woods, dragging her along after him.

Once they were far enough from camp to be out of sight and beyond earshot, Daryl swung Laney around in front of him. Not giving her a moment to catch her breath, he pinned her to a tree, using his lower body to keep her from moving, caging her head with his arms.

Delaney glared up at him, all livid blue eyes, twisted scowl, and enough piss and vinegar to rival his own. He narrowed his eyes at her and shoved her harder into the tree, making sure she was paying absolute fucking attention to what he said.

"I ain't sorry I did it," he snarled out. He didn't even bother to try to deny what he had done. She knew it; he knew it, what was the point? "I'd do it again if I fucking had to. No, I don't know why I did it exactly. But you ain't leaving and that's that. Don't like it, well too fucking bad."

Laney had stopped breathing the moment he pushed her into the tree that was scratching the shit out of her back. Then when he pressed himself against her, she had stopped thinking. She had barely even registered what the fuck he had just said to her. The words were muffled, muddled, and right now, she couldn't be damned to think of their implications. All she knew was she was turned on.

It hit her like a ton of bricks, all consuming, an unstoppable tidal wave, a scorching fire, and without warning, she grabbed his head, jerked him forward, and kissed him like she was going to die. In the back of her mind, she registered that it had been _way_ too long since a man had kissed her. Even longer since she'd been fucked. Fuck did this feel good.

Everything slammed into hyper drive from there.

Ranking her fingers through his hair, she tugged at the roots, scratching her nails along his scalp. Daryl had gone rigid when she had slammed into him, confused and thrown for a loop, but he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth and, before he knew it, he was kissing her back for all he was worth. Their teeth clashed painfully, the angle was awful, but fuck if Laney wasn't on Cloud 9 as Daryl's tongue slipped into her mouth and rubbed along hers. Groaning deep in her throat, she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him in closer, til she could almost tell what religion he was.

Daryl responded with his own growl, nipping harshly at her lip. He was in heaven. Hell, he couldn't even remember that last time he'd made out with someone. He also didn't remember it ever feeling this fucking hot.

Placing his calloused fingers on her hips, he ground his cock against her. He had gone hard two seconds after she started kissing him and he needed to get off soon or he was sure he would die. She seemed to be off the same mind because she ground back against him, moaning as she tugged harder at his hair, practically begging him to fuck her.

Who was he to argue?

Stepping back, he let her legs slip back to the floor as they both fumbled with each others pants, mouths still attacking each other, gasping and growling. Laney wanted to just unzip him but she couldn't find the damn thing. Daryl was also having trouble unlatching her vise-like grip so he could undo hers.

Finally, they were both free from the constraints of their clothing and, in the blink of an eye, she was once again pressed back into the tree, legs wrapped around his waist, head thrown back as she eagerly anticipating getting laid. Daryl had his face buried in the crook of her neck, sucking and biting on the skin there as he shifted to slam straight into her.

Then, everything went to hell. Bloodcurdling screams suddenly rang out from camp, followed by the unmistakable retorts of gunshots. Lots of gunshots. It seemed that walkers had finally found their campsite. Fuck. Daryl stumbled back away from Laney, jerking his pants up as she did the same. Checking to make sure she was straightened out, Daryl reached out again, in replay of just a few moments before, and yanked her to his side. Laney's eyes went wide, pupils blown with residual arousal and adrenaline. Daryl leaned down and smashed his lips to hers one last time, so hard, he tasted blood. When he pulled back, he didn't say a word to her, just set his jaw and spun to run back to camp. Delaney spent a split second blinking after him before she was hot on his tail, racing as fast as she could towards the screams of pain and terror that were echoing just yards in front of her.

Daryl hadn't said anything but Laney almost felt like…that last kiss…was his way of telling her to stay safe.

Fuck. Did walkers have inconsiderate timing or what?

A/N: Yeah, I know I'm a big tease. Seriously though, I hadn't even planned that part. I was going to let them make out a little but then I was thinking... Making out with Daryl would result in sex every time. :-)

So, I need everyone's opinion on who should die. Let me just tell you know, everyone is still alive. Morales and his family are still in camp. So I want three choices.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: I want to thank everyone for reviewing this story. It really does make me smile. Especially when I get feedback that inspires my next chapter. Also, please take the time to read my friend's story. "The Bite of a Blade, the Sting of an Arrow". I promise you will not be disappointed.

Delaney's lungs were burning from the exertion of running at full speed back to camp. She wasn't really one for working out. Sure she had a treadmill at her old apartment but it had become more of a coat rack than an actual exercise machine. Now she was wishing she had had least used it once or twice a week.

She could see the back of Daryl's head in front of her. He was running balls to the wall, _get out of my way or I will run your ass over_, crazy fast. But somehow she always managed to keep him in her sights. She was pretty sure it was not her athletic ability that was accomplishing that. Daryl was purposely making sure she could find her way back.

When she finally burst through the woods and saw the carnage, Delaney's heart stopped and bile rose in her mouth. So much blood, guts, and gore. The ground was painted scarlet and crimson, arches of it splattered across the green grass like paint on a canvas. Walkers were lying everywhere, fallen members of the ground lying around, under, and above them. Laney was not sure if they had simply been bit and died or if after being bit, they had been put down. It didn't really matter though. It didn't make them any less dead.

A few of the faces she knew and could put names to them, but there were several that she couldn't. It made her inexplicitly sad to realize that she hadn't taken the time to learn their names and now they were dead. Not that knowing their names would have saved their lives but at least she would be able to say their names if asked. At least there would have been one more person to remember them and not let them fade away, out of memory and time.

Laney could hear the wailing of the young girl, high-pitched and desperate, denying. If she remembered correctly, her name was Sylvia or Sonja, something like that. Delaney turned to see her lying on the ground next to her mother, Carol, clutching her hand. A huge chunk of skin was missing from Carol's neck and there was blood everywhere. Sophia's, that was her name, screaming grew louder.

Lori was trying to pry the girl away from her mother, trying to quiet her, comfort her. Sophia wouldn't move but her wailing began to subside, dying off into whimpers and moans as she curled over her mother's dead body. There was a distant, broken look to her eyes, hollowness, and Laney knew she would never be the same. Could never be the same. Losing her mother like that…even if therapy was still available, it would have done little good.

Delaney continued walking around the camp, just taking in all the carnage, numb and disbelieving. This was the exact reason she had wanted to stay away from groups. You get attached and then before you know it, you have someone to mourn, someone to bury. It wasn't fair and, suddenly, she could feel the anger coming back. If Daryl Dixon had not siphoned her gas, she would never have had to see this. Now she would see these dead bodies at night, swirling behind her eyes, in her dreams. If she was even able to sleep that was.

As she rounded the last tent, she stumbled across a dead body. Literally tripped and tottered, foot catching on once warm flesh. Not a big surprise, not now, except Laney would never have expected to see Merle Dixon lying in a pool of his own blood, glassy eyes gazing up to the sky, a chunk of skin torn out of his shoulder and his throat slit from ear to ear, like a gruesome, gaping smile.

A gasp rent itself from Laney's lungs and she staggered back, falling onto her ass and crawling away on the heels of her hands. Tears were burning her at the backs of her eyes. Her chest was heaving, caving in, and her breathing rapid under the onslaught. Damn it all to hell. Damn it! Not Merle. Not him. She had really liked the older male. He made her laugh and he was always teasing her, making her smile when she had been so sure she never would be able to again. Sure, the things he would say were a little sexist and slightly offensive but that was what made him Merle.

And now he was dead, no longer breathing, just plain fucking gone. Oh god. He was dead. _Merle was dead. _She needed to find Daryl, now, right fucking _now,_ but she couldn't seem to make her legs work right. Could barely breathe. Barely see past the blood and the gore and…and…

She finally found her voice and screamed as loud as she could.

"DARYL"

What felt like mere seconds later, yet eons at the same time, rough hands wrapped around her shoulders from behind and wrenched her up. Laney had a split instant to worry about a stray walker before Daryl's blue eyes were looking into hers and she heard, as if from a distance, him ask if she was alright.

He could tell there was something wrong, her pupils were blown wide and her chest was heaving like she was dying, but, physically, she seemed fine. The walkers had been killed before they had even made it back to camp.

"Laney, look at me," he growled.

Slowly, she raised her eyes to meet his. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it immediately. Shakily, she reached out to find his hand and, when she did, squeezed it until she thought she felt their bones creak. Needing his strength and some semblance of comfort, before she could essentially break his heart.

"D…Daryl," she whispered. She couldn't do this. Didn't want to. It wasn't her job. She didn't know these people. Didn't owe them anything. Shouldn't have to. She shouldn't have to. Why did this hurt so much?

"I…its Merle. He's…_dead." _

Her voice came out scratchy and raw, like serrated glass. Daryl looked at her in confusion, in disbelief, but then his eyes flickered over her shoulder and he saw a body a few feet away that he had ignored upon seeing Laney on the ground. His gaze took in the boots, large and crusted with mud, missing a shoelace that he had used to fix one of their snares. His heart thudded in his chest, once, like a bell. _No. _He didn't want to look but, unbidden, his eyes kept going. Saw the baggy, fucked up jeans, the patch on the knee. That ugly ass belt buckle he had tried to get rid of on more than one occasion. The leather vest that he had insisted looked more trailer trash than biker gang. And…and…

_No. _

Upon seeing Merle's body, Daryl tensed. His eyes went flat and ice cold, like the frozen tundra in the middle of a nuclear winter. He jerked his hand free from Laney's grasp and stumbled to his brother's side, falling to his knees once he's arrived. Merle's eyes stared up blankly at him, void of all teasing and malicious spark. Daryl needed to hit something or somebody. Needed to hit, hurt, maim, kill, _and destroy. _This was not supposed to happen. His brother was a fighter. He was not supposed to die. He was supposed to be invincible. Hell, he had survived Operation Desert Storm against those Iraqi mother fuckers. Some fucking dumb, dead bastards weren't supposed to do him in. Nothing about this made sense.

Slowly, Delaney approached the grieving and angry younger brother and squatted on the ground next to him. He didn't look at her.

There was no easy way to say this and she needed to get it out before one of them completely broke down.

"Daryl," she tried. Nothing. She reached out and touched his shoulder gently but he didn't acknowledge her.

She shook him a little harder but when he still didn't turn to her, she decided to just say it anyway. "Daryl…I can't imagine…I'm so sor…" This wasn't coming out right. Laney didn't know how to say it, come out and actually say it.

"Daryl I think someone killed Merle." Oh. She had said it. Why did it taste like ash coming up though?

The hunter finally looked over at her. He was having a hard time following what she was saying. He was in a daze.

The dead look in his blue eyes unnerved Laney. They looked as empty as Merle's. She bit her lip and went on. "His throat was slit Daryl. And…and I don't think it was after he was bit. The bite wound…there's too little blood around the edges, like it wasn't flowing when teeth had broken the skin. I…I think he was killed and then some walker bit him after he was already dead." It sounded horrible and Delaney had no idea who could have done it but…it just didn't make sense. She wasn't some kind of cop but she had watched enough CSI. The bite…the blood…it didn't add up.

Daryl blinked at her, slow, but he still didn't seem to comprehend what she was saying. It was useless. He couldn't deal with this right now. And she couldn't either. She'd…she'd find him later. Feeling her throat clench tight and her eyes begin to burn once more, Laney pushed herself up and cleared her throat. "I'm so sorry Daryl," she said. "I'm going to go back to my tent. If you need to talk or something, please come find me."

She laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it before walking away. She knew he needed time alone with his deceased brother. Fuck, she needed time alone too. But, one thing was for certain. Laney had come to a decision, made it the second Merle's flayed open throat had smiled up at her.

Shit was about to hit the fan. Daryl Dixon was not going to let this go; he would seek revenge on his brother's killer. And Delaney planned to be his shadow from now on. She would have his back rather he wanted it or not. She might not be able to put a label on her feelings for him, but she did know one thing. She was not going to sit back and give someone the chance to kill him before she got the opportunity to find out.

She was staying.

A/N: My updates will be slower from now on. Work is picking up and I am only getting one day off each week. Please bear with me.


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